


Gaurdians and Angels

by Temporarily



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Creepy vibes, Family, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Ordinary People, POV Original Character, POV Outsider, Religious Fanaticism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 13:39:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16176209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Temporarily/pseuds/Temporarily
Summary: "In a decrypt, mundane apartment complex that reeked of hopelessness in its corners and cracks, a little boy knelt in front of the windowsill. He knelt so he could pray to his angels."A look at how Kira's reign might impact an ordinary kid in a bad situation.





	Gaurdians and Angels

GUARDIANS AND ANGELS

In a decrypt, mundane apartment complex that reeked of hopelessness in its corners and cracks, a little boy knelt in front of the third windowsill from the rightmost street-facing corner, six stories high in the air. He knelt so he could pray to his angels.

"Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, bless the bed that I lie on. Four corners to my bed, four angels round my head..."

He recited the familiar prayer with a practiced, calm demeanor, as his mother sat on a stool at his bedside and watched with warm eyes. She'd given him this prayer, these angels, to drive away his nightmares. In particular it had been for protection against the crabby demon in his sock drawer with the foaming, rotting mandibles. That nightmare had haunted him almost every night since the man he'd considered his father walked out. 

"One to watch, and one to pray,"

But the prayer had worked, it'd worked like a charm, and so every night she watched over her son as he took control of his fear with courage fueled by blind, stubborn, childish belief in his angels.

"And two to bear my soul away." Having finished the charm that would ensure a good night's rest, the little boy obligingly padded over splintered floorboards to peel back his blankets and nestle inside their comforting layers. His mother smiled at him, ruffled the mop of dark hair poking out from the sheets, and pressed a kiss to his forehead. She told him that she loved him, as all mothers should, won a sleepy affirmative of his returned affection, and quietly exited the room, closing the door like a whisper.

The boy held his breath as he listened to her footsteps departing. Then, when he deemed it safe, he swung his feet back onto the splintered floorboards and resumed his vigil at the sill, preparing to pray to his guardian. Because while the angels kept the fear and the nightmares away, his guardian - his _god -_ took care of the monsters.

"Kira," he whispered, with a faint smile replacing his solemn airs, because he always preferred speaking with his guardian. It was more genuine. The other prayer was strict and rehearsed with clear guidelines and no room for improvisation. But when he spoke to Kira, he got to choose what he said, not just repeat the same stale words that have been passed down from generation to generation long ago. "I thank you for your protection, for smiting the monsters who pretend to be human, and for always being good to me." _Mr. Jerk-Face and most of his friends are gone thanks to you, one way or another,_ he thought, but didn't say aloud, because that wouldn't sound good with the prayer. Prayers were things that were meant to apply to everyone, not just one little boy alone in his room in a crumbling apartment building. _Now they can't throw any more_ _parties that smell gross and make mom cry, or give me bruises. You protected us both. Thank you._...He might not have spoken the words aloud, but the intent was there, and he knew he was heard.

He paused, thinking of what he should say next, then proclaimed, "You're kind of like a shepherd, but I'm not just your flock. I'm your sheepdog. Always loyal and ready to follow your command, so I can help you fight the wolves. I know that as long as I believe in you, you will protect me." Satisfied, he nodded and pressed his forehead against the chilly glass, muttered a brief, "Thank you, Kira," before he once again rose and cambered back into bed, content with the knowledge that something bigger than any of them was keeping back the monsters. It was a nice feeling, knowing that. He kept this feeling to himself, a small secret that was entirely his own.

Had his mother been lingering with her ear against the door, she would have been horrified and distraught at what she'd witnessed.

But the boy was not that careless, and so of course his mother wasn't there. The only witnesses to his actions were the rats in the floorboards, and the rats wouldn't be telling anyone. Indeed, the rats weren't bothered at all.

**Author's Note:**

> A melancholy story with creepy undertones for a month of the same descriptors. The four angels rhyme always unsettled me, so I wrote about it. I'm one day late, but Happy October! Get chills.


End file.
